


So It Goes...

by lazl (bravegentlestrong)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, I don’t ship this AT ALL but I hope it’s okay, another holiday i don’t celebrate, judgmental starks, this was an odd fic to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 18:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12800061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravegentlestrong/pseuds/lazl
Summary: Sansa had avoided answering the question for the past few weeks, but there wasn’t really much more she could do to put it off anymore. In two hours they would land in Wintertown and her brother would pick them up.“Not exactly.”“But they do know I exist?”“... yes. As my boss.”





	So It Goes...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roosebotlons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roosebotlons/gifts).



Sansa had dreamt of her wedding since she was a little girl. She went as a bride as Holloween twice. When she looked back at pictures of eight year old her in a veil, it did look a little creepy and she understood why her father was so reluctant to take her around the neighbourhood looking like a child bride. Growing up her favourite film to watch was her parent’s wedding video, horribly filmed by her uncle Edmure during his photographer phase. “I want to watch Ned and Cat get married” Sansa would always say when it was her turn to pick the movie for family movie night. Her parents would laugh as they slid the well-worn VHS into the VCR. As she got older she would buy bridal magazines along with a tub of ice cream after going through particularly bad breakups.

She thought she had it all figured out. A ballroom gown, a cathedral train, a tiara and four hundred guests dressed to the nines in the Red Keep’s ballroom. Who the groom was didn’t seem to matter so much, he wasn’t really the point of the fantasy, but he would be rich and sophisticated and desperately in love with her. Joffrey would have suited, or Harry, or even Willas. At least they would have in her head, before they showed their true colours.

She never imagined it would happen like it did — in a courthouse in pantsuit, not even a week after she told the senior partner at Baratheon and Associated that she was pregnant with his child. Sansa hadn’t told her parents — because it had been a whirlwind romance. But mostly because he was a decade older than her father and she wasn’t ready to face the music just yet.

“You did tell them I’m coming with you, didn’t you?” Davos asks at the airport after checking their bags.

Sansa had avoided answering the question for the past few weeks, but there wasn’t really much more she could do to put it off anymore. In two hours they would land in Wintertown and her brother would pick them up.

“Not exactly.”

“But they do know I exist?”

“... yes. As my boss.”

Davos Seaworth was a good man. Patient, kind, stubborn, loyal. Reluctant to date the associate who went to college with his son, certainly. But he had given into Sansa eventually. She had been scared if it was the impossibility of the match that led her to the crush on her boss, that she only lusted after him because there was no chance he’d look at her like that and break her heart like all the boys before had. But he had fallen prey to her lusty glances and way-too-personal conversations when they stayed past midnight at the office.

For months Sansa waited for the crush to go away, like they always had before. To realize she had only liked the fantasy. She waited for him to show his true colours, but if anything she had become more enamoured by him.

Her family would love him too. Eventually. It would just take time. Her parents could be a little puritanical when it came to how they thought things ought to be and matters of propriety.

“Do they know about the baby, at least?”

“Not yet. We’ll tell them. Together.”

As he always did when faced with unfortunate news, Davos forced a smile and marched right into it.

  
***

The reality is much worse than she had anticipated. She had worried, sure, but she thought if she just showed up everything would be fine. They’d had to be polite and they’d just see how great he was. They would calm down and there would never have to be any drama.

Clearly she had been away from the North for too long. She had been imagining some other family. And there they all were, all five of them, waiting at the gate for her.

She didn’t hold it against Rickon asking if the man was his grandfather, or Bran for just looking at them both like they were some sort of sideshow attraction, or her father for nearly crushing Davos’ hand when her husband introduced for herself.

Her other siblings, though...

Well, they were insane. Sometimes Sansa wondered how they existed out in the world.

“A baby? My sister... is pregnant with... *your* baby?” Robb asks as they load the bags into the car, grinding his teeth. Robb looked about ready to murder him right there, security cameras and airport security be damned.

But Ned calms him down, and Sansa thinks the worst of it is over.

“So, what... are you some kind of pedophile?” Arya asks him as soon as they pull away. All three of her siblings heads whip around so they can look at her husband. He flushes red, and she’s really sorry, but she’s really angry too.

“Arya, I’m twenty six years old. I’m not a child, therefore he cannot be a pedophile,” Sansa says through grated teeth.

“It’s still disgusting,” Robb said, just as angry as he was before.

“Well, I don’t mind. And it’s my marriage, so I think that’s what matters.”

They had nothing to say to that, and her father turned the volume of the radio up to max.

While her mother was polite, she was no better. Cat doesn’t say anything until they get home. She was too surprised — blindsided, she’ll say later — to have any coherent reaction. “I’ll just set up the guest room for your friend,” she says, trying to mask her horror behind hospitality.

“There’s no need. My husband will be sharing my room.”

“Your husband,” her mom repeats back to her, clearly still grappling with their new reality.

She doesn’t want to cause any waves, but when she gets back to her room and they’re finally alone she is livid. After all the bad choices her family has made — and there had been some truly stupid ones — did they really have the right to judge her?

And of course, the hormones make everything. She hasn’t thought straight in months. Luckily, despite their judgement, she has her rock with her to weather the chaos of a Stark Family Christmas.

“Don’t be mad at them. They just care about you,” Davos says, “if you were my dau—”

Sansa shoots him a look, “let’s not go there. Not right now at least.”

“All I meant was that they love you and want the best for you. Not getting into secret marriages with dirty old men.” Davos wrapped his arms around Sansa from behind and leaned into her neck to breathe her in.

 


End file.
